


Exit Wounds

by Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reformed Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 12:03:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum/pseuds/Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six months on from the Battle of New York, Tony is still very much feeling the after effects of his near-demise. But if the Chitauri aren't going to stop haunting his dreams any time soon, at least he's found the perfect distraction.</p><p>He'd never expected to find it in the man who led the attack, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exit Wounds

Blackness engulfed Tony, dulling his senses until the darkness was all that was left. Had he been too late? He didn’t remember the missile in his hands exploding before he reached the portal, but then he didn’t remember reaching the portal at all. He’d been close; that was all he could remember before everything went black.

Perhaps he had been too late. In that case, he’d be glad not to know exactly what had happened. Being at the centre of a nuclear explosion probably wasn’t the best way to go out – though he’d always thought he would take his last bow when his liver finally admitted defeat after decades of valiantly taking the abuse Tony subjected it to, so at least this way was quicker than withering away in hospital. It would have been nice not to take out the rest of Manhattan with him, though.

But at that moment something broke through the darkness; a flash of light so brief Tony could almost believe he’d imagined it if it hadn’t been followed by another, then a third and fourth. He’d never been much of a believer in an afterlife, but if it did exist, the shit he’d pulled in his lifetime pretty much guaranteed he wouldn’t be going to the good place. And the air around him did seem to be getting hot...

It took him a moment to realise the heat was coming from his suit warming up around him. He didn’t have time to celebrate not being dead, though, before the overwhelming terror kicked in. If he wasn’t dead, where the hell was he? And who was trying to burn their way through the metal of his suit?

His heart seized in his chest when the familiar sound of the Chitauri reached his ears. Why couldn’t he have just been dead? He’d never make it out of this alive; even if it took months, they’d kill him, and whatever torture they could come up with was sure to be so much worse than the horrors he survived in Afghanistan.

“Oh, God,” he breathed. Droplets of water trickled down his cheeks, sweat or tears he couldn’t tell, and he squeezed his eyes shut in some desperate, deluded hope that it would make all this go away. It worked about as well as he’d expected it to.

The suit was heating up faster and faster, sparks flying through the haze of smoke Tony could see as his panic skyrocketed. His skin blistered under the sizzling heat, yet it was still preferable to what would happen once they got through the metal. Which would be any second. He tried again to block everything out, the heat and the pain and the terror, but in that moment his chest piece came away and hit the floor with a clatter loud enough to reverberate through him.

He opened his eyes just as something sharp pierced his skin. And they were gone. They’d never been there in the first place. Instead of watching the Chitauri cutting into him he found himself staring up at his bedroom ceiling, the acrid stench of smoke and heated metal replaced by the scent of cologne that always lingered on his bedsheets.

“Fuck,” he managed to choke out past the heartbeat hammering in his throat, arms trembling when he pressed his hands to his face and body drenched in sweat. He could hardly breathe he was so petrified. Tears stung his eyes, trickled down his cheeks as he squeezed them closed, though when he opened them again he was still safe in his bed. Not that it felt particularly safe in that moment.

But he was okay. No physical injuries and, aside from the panic still consuming him, no sign that it had ever happened. He’d be fine. He just needed to breathe, get his heart rate back under control, and try to think of anything but heat and searing pain and aliens.

That last part would be tricky with the body lying beside him. Tony glanced across at the pale shoulders poking out under from the bedcovers and his breathing began to even out. At least he was slightly less likely to be tortured to death in bed with Loki.

He brushed the backs of his knuckles up and down Loki’s side while he closed his eyes again and let himself calm down. It was oddly soothing, stroking Loki’s cold skin – or maybe it was just having Loki beside him that eased his distress. Either way he didn’t care, so long as he could go one night without having a full-blown panic attack.

“Loki,” he said once the overwhelming fear subsided, rolling over and plastering himself against Loki’s back while his hand slid to Loki’s chest, “you awake?”

“No.”

The hint of a smile struggled to come to life on Tony’s face. “That’s too bad. ‘Cause if you were...” His hand moved lower, thumb purposefully grazing Loki’s nipple before he slipped down to Loki’s stomach and reached for his dick. Loki caught Tony’s hand as his fingers curled around the base, but instead of steering Tony’s strokes he pulled his hand away.

“Did you have another nightmare?” Loki said drowsily, his eyes still closed.

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re shaking.”

“I'm fine.” Loki twisted in place to shoot Tony a sceptical glance. “You know what; forget it. Go back to sleep.”

It had been a stupid idea to try and distract himself with Loki anyway. He was hardly doing better than Tony, even if he was more adept at hiding it, and Tony wasn’t exactly in the right mental state to cope with the rough sex Loki favoured. He pulled away and rolled to face the opposite wall, wrapping the covers tighter around himself to try and chase away the coldness from the sweat-damped sheet beneath him. The mattress moved behind him, but Tony didn’t bother to say anything, nor did he when Loki curled around him and pressed a cool hand against Tony’s heart still beating too fast in his chest.

“You’re safe,” said Loki, the words barely more than a whisper in Tony’s ear, and far softer than his usual tone. It never felt right when Loki showed he was actually capable of sympathy. At any other time Tony would have rolled his eyes and dismissed Loki with some jibe or another, yet now he welcomed the comfort.

“I know. I'm okay, Loki. Just a dream.” He offered Loki as bright a smile as he could manage to prove his point and Loki studied him for a moment. Whether he’d decided he believed Tony or not, he pressed a feather-light kiss to Tony’s exposed shoulder, then another to his clavicle before working his way up Tony’s neck.

“Do you still want this?” he said against Tony’s skin.

“Absolutely. Be gentle, though.”

Loki nodded as Tony made himself comfortable on his back. His boxers clung to his clammy legs when he peeled them off, the air cold on his skin, though Loki’s mouth on his served as a suitable distraction. Even if his body on top of Tony’s made it next to impossible to kick the shorts off from around his ankles.

Well, they were naked enough to get the job done already.

His heart pounded faster for all the right reasons now, dick stirring as Loki’s tongue rolled against his, and the memories of his dream slipped that little bit further away. He’d have to remember this trick; at least once a week he or Loki would wake in terror in the middle of the night, haunted by Thanos and his army, and this had to be the best way to deal with it. Not the healthiest, perhaps, but definitely the most entertaining. How had they not discovered this months ago?

Fingers grazed softly along Tony’s side, starting at his hip and travelling upwards until they caught the bottom of Tony’s tank top to push it up and stroke Tony’s stomach in one move. “Leave it,” he said when the hemline inched closer to his arc reactor. “It’s too bright.”

It was a cloudy night in Malibu, the only lights illuminating their bedroom the displays of various electronics scattered about the room, so the reactor already stood out intensely enough to cast Loki in an otherworldly glow through Tony’s black top. He’d probably blind Loki if he removed it completely. Loki’s hand dropped away, brushing back down Tony’s stomach to wrap around his erection.

God, Tony never grew tired of that feeling. It had taken him a while to adjust to Loki’s lower body temperature, but once he had Loki’s every touch drove him wild. He had yet to be convinced Loki wasn’t actually using some kind of magic on him for the simple act of stroking a hand along Tony’s skin to send electricity through him the way it did. Loki swore blind it wasn’t magic, but then he would do, wouldn’t he?

He moved his hand in slow, firm strokes while Tony moaned beneath him, his grip tightening ever so slightly each time he reached the head of Tony’s cock, until their breaths came out ragged and their hands clutched at each other desperately. The cold of Loki’s body pressed firmly against Tony’s chilled the burning he was sure he could still feel on his skin, and he pulled him in closer as they thrust into Loki’s fist together. If Tony could focus on that cold and the drag of Loki’s hard length sliding up and down his own, he could forget everything else; forget who Thanos even was and why he was still out for Loki’s blood, forget he had an army who’d happily tear the universe to shreds to find Loki, and forget how close he himself had come to meeting his end because of them.

“Don’t close your eyes,” Loki said. “Stay with me.”

He was grinning down at Tony when he opened his eyes again, lust rolling off him in waves, and they kissed again, more hungrily than they had for weeks. The novelty of their relationship hadn’t quite worn off yet, though over the last few weeks things had been relatively strained between them, the combination of stress and sleep-deprivation making both of them more irritable than usual – and Loki was irritable enough to begin with. So make-up sex and thank-God-you’re-not-being-tortured sex all in one; no wonder it felt so good.

Tony rolled them over until he was straddling Loki’s lap. Loki had done an admirable job of keeping things tender, but now Tony needed something more. His hands slid down Loki’s bare chest, muscles clenching under his fingers, and Loki sat up to close his mouth around Tony’s Adam’s apple. The light scrape of teeth on Tony’s skin catapulted him to new levels of fervour and his hips moved faster against Loki as Loki’s moan vibrated through him.

“I love you,” Tony gasped, while Loki’s hands gripped his ass.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“’Cause you’re a dick.”

Loki grinned at him again before his eyes scrunched closed in ecstasy. Their movements had lost all rhythm, arms wrapped around each other’s torsos holding them close as they desperately rutted against each other, and within minutes Tony came with a choked cry. Loki followed him soon after, though neither of them was keen to disentangle themselves. They sat panting against each other’s damp skin, their foreheads touching while Tony ran his fingers along Loki’s sharp cheekbones.

“Feeling better?” Loki said, his eyelids heavy and lips looking almost purple in the blue light from the arc reactor. He never looked entirely human when bathed in this light, yet Tony could still drink in the view forever. He’d seen Loki come unravelled plenty of times since New York – the first few weeks after he’d escaped Thanos’ clutches were particularly rough on all of them – and the post-coital haze was definitely Tony’s favourite.

“Well I'm sure as hell not thinking about the Chitauri anymore,” he chuckled.

“I think you and I are more than capable of handling a few Chitauri soldiers, anyway.”

Tony hummed his agreement, stifling a yawn before he spoke again. “It’s more the big boss I'm worried about.”

They both knew Thanos wouldn’t stop until he got his hands on Loki. And his was a threat the Avengers may not have the power to deal with. Loki’s smile faded and he glanced away, his hand stilling its soft strokes along Tony’s back.

“Let’s go back to sleep,” he said after a moment.

“Good plan.”

He climbed off Loki’s lap and tugged his tank top over his head to clean the mess from his stomach, he and Loki both squinting at the bright light of the arc reactor. Tony really needed to get his ass in gear and make a cover for the damn thing. But before he could apologise for almost blinding them both, Loki’s hand covered the metal and the light faded to nothing.

“What did you do?”

“I diverted the energy elsewhere. Don’t worry; it’s still running.”

“It won’t get hot instead?” He didn’t quite fancy waking up in burning pain twice in one night.

“No. We just can’t see the light it gives off.”

Huh. Maybe he didn’t need to make a cover for it after all. “Thanks,” he said, and Loki shrugged, moving back to his side of the bed and lying down in one fluid movement. Tony didn’t possess nearly the same grace as he scrambled over to join him. He curled against Loki’s chest and closed his eyes while Loki pulled the bedcovers back over them both, listening to Loki’s heartbeat as he drifted off to sleep.

If the nightmares started again – well, he’d found the perfect antidote.


End file.
